Zach's Worst Nightmare: Sex
by flyinaway2soon
Summary: Zach has a rendezvous. Zach/OC Oneshot M for safety REDO


Zack breathed deeply. This was normal. This was totally normal.

This was _not_ normal.

Sex was something Zack accepted as biological fact. One way or another, the humans reproduced and continued the species. It was science. He liked science. This… what this woman… the bed… the sheets… the pounding hearts and sweaty chests… this was all beyond him._ Far_ beyond him.

Zack stood straight ahead, apprehensively, analytically. That was his nature. He thought about everything through and through and beat it until it was dead and fully understood. She was feisty and loud and spontaneous and everything he _wasn't._ He watched her walk towards him, stared as she unbuttoned her blouse and whispered "Just relax," in his ear.

Miranda was… not like most people. Not at all. She lived her life without inhibition. She did the things she wanted, the way she liked them. She was smart as a whip, but while lecturing you on some random fact on the history of the toaster, she'd trip in her ridiculous 5" stilettos because she didn't notice there were stairs. She was head of the textile department in the American Smithsonian. On the weekends she wasn't working on exhibits, she ran off to old-school punk concerts in basements, not caring that she was the only one with bright red, chipped fingernails and an ironed shirt. That's just the way she was. She was not to be put in a box, to be labeled and shipped off. That was NOT what she wanted, nor the way she liked things.

She oozed confidence, as she walked towards him, and kissed him softly, hungrily. She had done this sort of thing before. She was experienced. That terrified him. She knew that, and it only made her more eager. She knew how different Zack was from her. Normally, _normally_, this would irritate her to absolutely no end. She hated people who were stiff, and especially those who were socially awkward. She couldn't put her finger on it, but there was something about him that made him the exception. This bothered her, but she didn't stop to think about it. She was too engrossed in what she was doing and feeling.

Zack breathed heavily, not believing what was unfolding. He didn't make love to women. His few attempts in life had failed, and he preferred not to think about the whole thing altogether. How this woman had danced into his life, and gotten him to this point, and _willingly_, was beyond him. She gyrated around him, putting his hand here and telling him to do that there. This was proof of his inexperience, he was sure. But somehow, she didn't seem to mind.

She wrapped one leg around him, and pulled Zack to the drawers behind her. She captured his lips with hers, coaxing him to run his hands over her skin. His hands momentarily dipped between her legs, making her shudder. At this, he pulled back and blushed. Miranda only grinned and guided his hand back to where it was.

"Oh, god, faster. Please, faster," she whimpered, sitting atop his chest of drawers, legs spread, topless, with Zack there, complying. Any of his friends, all from the Jeffersonian, would never believe he was actually doing this. He said a small prayer for that. He would never live down giving a handjob to a woman, particularly one like Miranda. His thoughts slowly trailed off on unpleasantness of the word handjob, and he grew less focused on what he was actually doing with his hand.

She moaned, obviously irritated that he was forgetting his duties. Zack did a double take. Had he just become distracted? Zack was never distracted. He was always focused, always keeping up with the pace. In fact he often was probably too focused, continuing subjects that others had already deviated from.

She moaned again, louder, growing more irritated at his inattentiveness. So, of course, she leaned down and bit him. This was the most natural thing to Miranda. She didn't need to think, she just did. Granted, this often got her into trouble later on down the road, but she preferred doing things her way and dealing with the consequences later, to doing things the fit and proper way. She bit harder, once he came back to her demand.

Zack was very much "out of it." There was a true goddess under him, ready and willing for whatever he could give. He momentarily noticed the cliché of the word goddess, but decided it fit anyways and moved on. She smiled. That was good, right? Smiling during sex was good. He decided he'd write that down somewhere, afterwards. He also decided to write down the things that had made her moan. Maybe that would help him remember…

She giggled. He was staring, hovering over her, with his pants still on, as if he was lost in another world, totally out of the moment. Miranda lived for the moment. That was her body and soul. She contemplated on how funny things must look from the outside. An awkward boy who had never been properly socialized, stuck in a world of facts, with his pants still on, laying over a mostly naked giggling girl. This only made her laugh harder. However, she quickly sobered as she saw the confused look on Zack's face. She explained,

"I giggle at irony, more than anything else. And you know that. Don't be upset, please. And I just think it's funny that you're there and I'm here and we're together in all of this. And it's so strange." She started a lot of her sentences with "and." She was always adding to her previous thought. Many argued that she was one of the most random people, but she swore up and down that she always had a logical train of thought. Perhaps they were the random ones, who just couldn't understand, she argued.

Zack's face softened when he understood it wasn't his fault. He was almost puppy-dog like. Unsure and constantly needing reassurance that he was doing the right thing and hadn't made a mistake yet. She pulled him to her, kissing him harder, more fiercely this time. The fingers of one hand trailed to his hair and tightened, while the other ran below to work its magic on his pants. Before he could process it, she was on top of him, and both of them were very _very_ naked. Her hands ran up and down his body, calming him. Miranda grabbed one of his and pulled it to her hip, the other going to her breast. He pinched, experimentally, then somehow, instinctively, bowed down his head and softly bit. She groaned, and grinded her hips into his. He too felt himself reacting, blushing at the thought. Erection was another word he found unpleasant.

Suddenly, another part of him took over. He flipped them back over, and attacked both breasts with abandon, growling. Miranda was caught off guard, surprised at Zack for even growling. Really. Zack. Growling? That was a bit much for her. However, him taking a position of power only made her hotter, and more ready for action.

"I want it," she whispered hoarsely. She could have screamed, but Zack's small garage-apartment would not be appropriate for that.

"What do you want?" Zack asked softly. He suddenly regressed into the cub stage, instead of the fierce lion of moments ago. He was so non-aggressive, and mentally kicked himself for it. Miranda closed her eyes, letting the different responses flit across her face. She decided on the snarky, challenging one.

"I want you to fuck me, screw me, passionately make love to me every way you know how, and more."


End file.
